Chapter 72

KEITH Noah’s eyes were cold as it flicked over Lester, who remained crumpled on the floor, struggling for breath. His fists were clenched tightly, his chest rising and falling with each labored inhale. His anger was unmistakable, radiating off him like a storm ready to burst. I glanced at Noah, still trying to process what had just happened. He was furious—an intensity I’d never seen in him before. His glare cut through me, so I slowly released his arm, and the others followed suit, their hands falling away as they exchanged looks of shock and confusion. Noah gritted his teeth, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had pushed him over the edge like this. I had never seen him this furious. Not even close. Ever since Elijah’s death in that kidnapping incident many years ago, Noah had become distant and aloof. He was still easygoing and relaxed around us, his friends and family, but there was always an underlying coldness, a barrier that kept him from fully connecting. But I never